


Don't Hold Back, Hold Nothing Back Tonight

by bofurlove



Series: Falling [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, M/M, Oral Sex, Orgasm Denial, Piercings, Rimming, Tattoos, Teasing, anal toy play, i dont know, i dont wanna tag anymore, lots of fun, my ot3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 15:47:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1095782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bofurlove/pseuds/bofurlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to "Paralyzer" Had a lovely reader ask for a sequel, so what better way to have a sequel than a threesome!!! WOO!!! So here it is</p><p>Greg is finally divorced from his wife so Sherlock and John make a move.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Hold Back, Hold Nothing Back Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is entirely for fun. Because I love this threesome and I cant get enough. So there. I regret nothing! WOO!!!
> 
> Also, any spelling and grammatical errors can be blamed on my son of a bitch kindle that sabotages me every time I use it to write.
> 
> Anyways ENJOY!

It could be said that Greg Lestrade found the great Sherlock Holmes attractive; who wouldn't? The man was miles of long, lean, pale and beautiful skin with the most magnificent mind. Shame when he opened his mouth that most people would get turned off by him. The young Consulting Detective was a genius with quite the ego, and it was paired with a sharp tongue. Some days the Detective Inspector wondered why he even put up with the git; especially when the younger man was insulting his intelligence or commenting on his recently failed marriage. Greg knew it was all a defence mechanism; Sherlock’s way of keeping the world at arms length from him to prevent disappointments of his past from reoccurring. The poor man had had a disappointing childhood filled with neglect and bullying; a drug induced talking head revealed this much to Greg when he pulled the younger man out of an alley after a drug deal gone wrong.

The flying insults, and apparently the drugs, had stopped (well the insults hasn't stopped but died down) when the good Doctor entered the scene. John Watson. No one knew how John Watson and Sherlock Holmes became acquainted, the two of them just showed up at a crime scene together one night and Lestrade was too shocked at Sherlock's sobriety to really pitch a fit. John Watson was quiet, thoughtful, polite, and the only one who seemed to be able to tame the wild curled man. Greg had not the slightest idea how the duo had come together, since John was not the usual dubious character that Sherlock had taken a habit in surrounding himself with.  John was a soldier, a doctor, and one of the most pleasant blokes to spend time with...oh yeah, and he had an absolutely gorgeous arse. John had a way of easingthe damage that Sherlock could cause on an early morning call for a case, offering a warm smile and a kind word.

John had been especially kind over the last nine months during Greg's messy divorce from his now ex wife, Monica. He would offer to meet up for a pint and let Greg vent out his frustrations. The situation was difficult and John listened kindly. Greg was sure the blonde man probably didn't really want to listen to him bitch and moan about his adulterous wife, but he listened just the same; with sadness and pity in his eyes. Amazingly enough, Sherlock had managed to keep his comments to himself about the failed marriage to himself over the last nine months; whether it was John's doing or not Greg didn't know but he was grateful just the same.

The papers had been signed and finalized copies had been sent to Greg three weeks ago. They were currently sitting under a tea mug at the DI's dingy new flat. He couldn't care less about them, he was just pleased to be sitting here waiting for John and watching the football match on the pub telly. The good doctor had insisted the continue their Friday night meet ups even though the divorce was final and Monica was no longer a source of his woes. John had told him to meet him at the pub around the corner of 221B at 8p.m. sharp before Sherlock had hurried the shorter man away quickly from the DI. John flashed Greg a positively wicked grin, paired with a wink, before they disappeared from sight. That wicked grin had Greg's stomach in butterflies and knots for the last three days straight.

John had grown to be a true friend to Greg over the last nine months and he would be lying if he said that he hasn't thought about the doctor more often than not when he was lying alone in his bed. His fantasies were not always just of John, but also Sherlock....and John....together. They would surely be the most beautiful sight to see with their limbs tangled together sweating and moaning together, Greg would imagine himself sandwiched between the two of them; being showered in attention and kisses from their plush lips. Greg shook his head to clear his mind of those fantasies, because that's exactly what they were: fantasies. He was just boring old Greg Lestrade, worn out Yarder who couldn't keep his wife happy enough too not step out on him. These fantasies could never be. But he would take what he could get, even if it was just Friday pub nights with John and low velocity attacks from Sherlock.

Greg tapped the pub table as the pub erupted in cheers. Manchester scored a goal. John was 15 minutes late for the match, but he couldn't really be blamed, after all he did live with Sherlock. If Sherlock wanted to make John late there was no doubting he would. And Greg figured he would judging by the territorial glare the taller man had shot at him before shaking John away mid planning for their meetup. He still had no idea how that all worked, the two of them living together; whether or not gossip about the pair held any merit. But he was not willing to risk what friendship he had built with John to try and find out.

Lestrade took the last gulp of his beer as John walked in the pub. The DI swallowed hard at the sight of the man; coat in hand, dressed in deliciously tight jeans and a thin v-necked dark blue jumper. This was not the usual John Watson attire. He looked amazing, the color of his jumper making the color of the doctor's eyes all the brighter. A smile broke across John's face as he spotted Greg in his booth in the back of the pub and made his way in the DI's direction.

"Looks like I owe you a pint." John had a warm smile spreading from ear to ear as he spoke to Greg. It had the silver haired detective's chest fluttering, and his cheeks heating up. Greg couldn't help but smile as well, the good doctor's smile was absolutely infectious.

"Nah, it's alright." Greg tried to keep himself in check. "You do live with Sherlock."

John let out a chuckle and shook his head as he tossed his jacket into the booth beside Greg. He gently pushed up the sleeves of his shirt and headed towards the bar top. Greg's eyes were drawn right to the man's arse as he walked, he couldn't help himself; the way it looked in those impossibly tight jeans and the way the man walked. Greg gaze snapped up when he noticed the shorter man was looking over his shoulder back at him with a sly smile on his lips and a single eyebrow raised. Coughing, the DI turned his eyes to the telly to try and focus on the match instead of the fact that John was now most definitely staring at him. This was not good. Normal blokes didn't get caught ogling at their mates arses, no matter how mouth watering they look in tight jeans.

John slid into the booth beside him, pushing a fresh pint in front of him. He could feel the other man's eyes still on him, no doubt deducing him. Suddenly he felt John's shoulder bumping against his own.

"Like what you see eh?"

Greg turned his head sharply to be met with the shining eyes of John who was smiling wolfishly at him. Shit! He had definitely been found out. His mind raced as he tried to come up with some sort of explanation that didn't include him confessing that he had fantasized about that arse, and the way it might look as its muscles tensed while he thrust into him.

Suddenly Greg's attention was drawn to his thigh where John's firm hand was running up its length and towards his rapidly growing erection. "Relax Greg." John chuckled lightly before patting the DI lightly on his thigh before bringing both hands to wrap around his pint as he continued to smile at him, "don't think I haven't noticed you checking out my arse before. You aren't very sneaky about it. I've seen you sneak a peek at Sherlock's as well."

Greg wanted to quickly find a hole to crawl into now, thank you very much. He could feel himself start to blush as his ears heated up. There was no doubt now that this friendship would now be awkward.

John gently put his hand over Greg's and leaned closer, "Greg, I can see you panicking in your brain. Just stop. It's really okay. It's not a big deal. I don't mind one bit, honestly. And no one can help but stare at Sherlock's arse. The great twat always strutting around like a bleeding peacock in his too-tight suits. I swear I can hear the buttons on his shirt screaming as they try and keep his shirt closed."

Letting himself laugh at John's oh so accurate description of the consulting detective's wardrobe, Greg earned him another smile from the shorter man.

"I have no idea how you live with him. It must be torture. I would have the urge to murder him all the time."

"Ha! It's not all that bad. Besides, I have a way of keeping him in line." The look in the doctors eyes as he spoke made Lestrade want to squirm in his seat as blood rushed to his groin at all the ideas that swirled about his mind. When had his imagination turned as filthy as the Thames? Clearing his throat he decided it was time for a change of subject before his cock burst from his trousers.

"So, I never asked how you and Sherlock actually met."

This time it was John who let his gaze turn to the television, his grin still set and only growing wider; causing his eyes to crinkle at their edges before he spoke, " Trust me, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

Now this had to be interesting. "Try me!" Greg grinned to himself, now VERY intrigued.

Greg waited and watched as John pulled his phone and what looked like a small remote from his pocket and set them on the table. He pushed the bottom on the little black remote and took a swig of his beer.

"You know that club 'Fabric'?"

"The one with the bodysonic dance floor and massive sound system?" Greg knew the place from having to bust Sherlock’s dealer there a time or two before John came along.

"That's the one. Well, we met there were we danced and then I took him home and fucked his face before pounding him into the mattress."

Greg choked on his beer and started coughing. John just kept staring at the tv and smiling.

"He asked me to stay and live with him that night. And I did." The blonde man shrugged while Greg just stared at him with his mouth hanging open, blown away and not quite believing what he heard.

"You lie!"

Lestrade's challenge of the validity of the story finally drew John's attention away from the match. "I promise you that is the honest to God truth. And that's not even the tip of the iceberg when it comes to what sort of shenanigans we get up to....or talk about. Lately bedroom conversation has turned to that of a deliciously handsome silver fox of a Detective Inspector."

That's it. He had to have died. Greg had to have died in some traffic accident and he was in heaven. Because there was no way in hell that he was sitting here with John Watson, talking about what the doctor got up to in the bedroom with Sherlock Holmes and there was NO WAY they would ever talk about HIM in their bedroom. The DI's cock twitched in his pants where a small damp spot was beginning to grow while he leaked with his arousal. This was not the John Watson he knew. The John Watson he knew was polite and quiet. Greg's mind was going a mile a minute, completely on the fritz and almost offline as John moved closer so he was talking right in his ear.

"Oh you would love to see that wouldn't you? Sherlock's long body spread out on the bed, pale skin just waiting to be marked by your mouth, my mouth. Completely relaxed, at our mercy. Tell me Greg, how often have you wanked to that thought? The thought of that plush arse under your hands? Or the way your cock would look as it is buried slowly into that arse?"

Greg couldn't help the moan that escaped him. John's hand was currently making its way back up his thigh as he spoke dirty fantasies that Greg had never confessed before, making his way up and cupping his cock through his jeans to give it a light squeeze under the cover of the table. Lestrade was definitely grateful that they are seated in the dark corner of the pub. It wouldn't do for the detective inspector to get kicked out of a pub for lewd behaviour.

John's breath was hot on his ear and throat as he continued to speak while rubbing his hand firmly against the front of Greg's jeans. "You'd love that wouldn't you? Let me tell you Greg, it's a sight to see. But I already know how Sherlock looks. What I'm interested in is just how gorgeous your cock must look, quite impressive if this is anything to go by. I'd love to see exactly how far that silver hair goes down." Unable to stop himself, Greg turned his head and suddenly he and John's lips were a breath away from one another. "Go on Greg. I know you want to. I have just been biding my time 'til your divorce with Monica was final. You have no idea how hard it's been sitting beside you every Friday, my fingers itching to touch every inch of you. Always going home with a raging hard on. Slipping into bed with Sherlock, telling him exactly what I would do to you should I get you into our bed. Listening to Sherlock talk about how badly he wants you as well." The blonde nuzzled his nose against Greg's as he speaks causing the DI's heart to race.

Well fuck it, if this was how it was gonna be might as well dive in headfirst. Closing the gap between them, Greg claimed John's lips in a fierce kiss; the perfect clash of teeth and tongue. The soft velvety feeling of John's tongue sliding and caressing his own, paired with the firm rubbing that the shorter man was giving to his hold on the man's cock caused Greg's eyes to roll back in his head and a groan to pour into the shorter man mouth. John just kept on snogging him, his tongue gliding gently over every surface of the silver haired man's mouth, mapping out every detail.

When they finally broke away they were both breathless and panting silently while resting their foreheads against one another. "You are coming home with me right now." John grabbed his jacket and started pulling it on quickly. The sudden loss of the warm body beside him brought Greg's mind to the present and exactly what was happening. Shaking his head gently he grabbed John's hand quickly before whispering, "What about Sherlock?"

John scooped up his phone and shoved it deep in his pockets before clicking the small black remote and putting it back in his pocket and sitting back beside Greg, that wicked grin and mischievous glint in his eye back. "Who do you think is waiting there for us? I was late because I was busy having a nice chat before I met up with you tonight. I had Sherlock sit in his chair stark naked while I described in very great detail what I wanted to do to you and what I want Sherlock to do to you." John smirked as he leaned in close before continuing, "and the whole time I forbid him to touch himself. When I left the flat he was still hard and aching for a touch. So my guess is that Sherlock will be more than happy to see the pair of us." Without another word John got up and headed for the door leaving Greg to sit for a moment and wait for his brain to catch up. When it finally did he chugged down the rest of his beer, grabbed his own jacket and folded it across his arm to hide the unmistakable bulge in his trousers. He was definitely gonna need as much liquid courage that he could get.

When he got out the door of the pub he spotted John waiting for him, grinning, by the street corner. Rushing up to him, he followed close behind John whose hands were deep in his pockets as he hurried the couple of blocks to 221B. Greg’s mind was on fire as they walked in silence along the pavement. “What am I doing? This is John and Sherlock. I work with them on a weekly if not daily basis! Am I really going to risk our professional relationship for a quick shag? Am I willing to risk fucking up whatever Sherlock and John had already built between them? WHAT AM I DOING?” Lestrade’s stomach dropped as he caught sight of the tall black door and brass numbers. He couldn’t do this. He wouldn’t risk everything he had built with these men over the last 2 years for the promise of his fantasies. It would not be worth it. He wouldn’t risk John and Sherlock for this. He stopped dead in his tracks and stood still as he tried to calm his brain and come up with a decent excuse as to why he had to go home when John turned around that brilliantly mischievous smile fell away and his face filled with concern.

“Greg?” John walked up to him, all playfulness gone. “Hey, you alright? If you don’t want to do this it is perfectly okay. I like you Greg, a lot. You are patient, kind and have helped Sherlock in so many ways. Not to mention you are bloody gorgeous. But I don’t want you to go into this and end up regretting it.” Holding onto his arm gently John studied Greg’s face carefully until the DI let out a shaky sigh.

“I do want this. God, how I want this. But I just don’t know...I don’t want to fuck up what you and Sherlock have, not to mention our working relationship.” John nodded and waited silently. “And….why? Why is this even happening? Why on earth would either of you want to have me in your bedroom. I am nothing.”

Greg watched as John’s face softened even more before he began to speak again. “Greg, you are not nothing. Sherlock and I truly care about you. If you haven’t noticed my interest in continuing our pub nights. You are a huge part of both of our lives. This isn’t something we are taking lightly. This is something that he and I have talked about for quite some time. This is a BIG fantasy of Sherlock’s, and mine.” John dropped his hand from where it had been gently gripping Greg’s arm acting as an anchor for the DI, and took his hand. “I made a huge gamble actually pursuing this tonight. I was terrified that you would tell me to fuck off and that we would be without cases from here on out. But Sherlock kept pushing and pushing saying there was nothing to hold us back now that the divorce was final.” Carefully John used his free hand to make Greg meet his gaze. “Wednesday when we rushed away from the crime scene was not because Sherlock was being territorial.  It was that you're divorce was final. He rushed me home to talk about tonight. About us inviting you into our bedroom.”

Greg took a deep breath as he stared into John’s eyes; eyes that were genuinely filled with concern and worry. The same concern and worry that had been in his eyes every time he had vented or spoke of the divorce, of the toll it was taking on him. This was not something that John was doing as spur of the moment. This was something real. Alright, lets do this. Setting his shoulders square he nodded at John, earning him a warm kind smile in return.

“We okay then?” John looked over his face again to make sure that he is sure, and Greg nodded again.

“Alright. If you are sure about this we will go inside. But, if at ANYTIME you want to stop or you start to feel uncomfortable about what is happening or if you want out, you use the word “cinnamon” and EVERYTHING will stop. There will be no judgements, no disappointment or upset. This is about more than just me and Sherlock. This is about you too. This is about us wanting to let you into what is usually just the two of us. If any of us is not okay then everything stops. Yeah?” John watched him carefully as he waited.

“Yeah.” The tight feeling in his chest began to ease and the stress and worry beginning to melt away as he watched John.

“What is the word you need to use?”

“Cinnamon.”

Grinning from ear to ear John raised himself up on his toes and planted a kiss on Greg’s lips. Not the same hungry and urgent kiss that they shared in the bar, but one of understanding and care. By the time they broke away Greg’s entire body was relaxed and buzzing with excitement. The doctor’s lips sure were magic.

Taking a step back John smiled as he squeezed Greg’s hands gently. “Better?”

Greg couldn’t help the grin that spread across his own face before he blew a harsh breath through his pursed lips, “Yep, yeah I am.”

In an instant John’s mischievous smile is right back in place as he took hold of the older man’s hand and lead him through the door of 221B. Greg stopped quickly, anxiety filling him as he looked at the door of John and Sherlock’s landlady. John chuckled and waved his hand, “She is away at her sister’s. Sherlock told her we were having a special night and she decided it was better to leave, rather than deal with the thin as paper walls.” John gave his hand another squeeze and Greg allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs, reigniting the excitement in his belly as they move closer to the closed door of the flat. John stopped and turned around with a raised eyebrow and whispered softly, “You ready?”

“I DON’T EVEN KNOW!” Greg’s heart is racing while he nodded at the shorter man, not entirely sure that he is ready for whatever may be on the other side of that door. For all he knew Sherlock was going to ambush the two of them. He really was out of his depth in this situation. The click of the latch on the door had Greg feeling like a small child on Christmas morning; full of excitement and anticipation. This was really happening!

As John pushed open the door slowly all the breath in Greg’s lungs is shocked out of him. There sitting in his leather chair is Sherlock, stark naked with his eyes clenched shut. Just as John had described that he had left him. Greg lets his eyes drift along the sight in front of him. A soft flush covering the younger man’s chest, a soft sheen of sweat covering his body, all the way down to his lap where his cock is sitting oh so hard. Suddenly Greg realizes why. Wrapped around that gorgeous cock was a bright pink cockring, slightly constricting the blood flow, leaving the veins bulging from the skin of Sherlock’s member. Another silicone ring attached the the first encircled around the consulting detective's balls as well.

Turning to John, Greg held his mouth open in shock. John smiled as he shrugged off his coat and tossed it on the couch before working the DI’s off as well and adding it to the pile. Lestrade watched as John reached into his pocket and pulled out the same small black remote that he had been fiddling with at the pub and handed it to him.

“Go on. Push it.” John’s smile had turned positively predatory as he watched Greg press the button carefully and a moan erupted from Sherlock where he sat across the room.

“I forgot to mention that when I left Sherlock here to meet you at the pub I made sure to leave him with his favourite toy of ours up his arse, and took the long range remote for it with me.” Sherlock was simply trembling, his grip so hard on the arms of his chair that his knuckles had turned even whiter than the rest of his flesh. John clicked the remote again as he approached where Sherlock was sitting; causing the younger man to drop his head back, exposing that delectable throat while his mouth fell open. All Greg could think about was how he’d love to attack that throat right now.

“Look at you love.” John was now circling Sherlock’s chair with his eyes and smile absolutely sinful, his movements completely in control. “Looks like you were a good boy and followed my instructions. You haven’t touched yourself at all while I was gone have you?” John stopped in front of Sherlock as he held out a single finger and ran it gently over the hard and aching flesh of the younger man’s cock; causing him to jerk at the sudden stimulation of his neglected arousal. A steady ooze of precome leaked slowly from the tip of Sherlock as John’s finger ran along it; scooping it up and bringing it to his lips and turning to Greg, making a show of cleaning it off his fingers.

“....please…” Greg barely heard the whisper of a voice leave the dark haired man’s lips as John walked up to him and clicked the remote again. The smile on John’s face is bordering on menacing as he completely ignored the man panting in desperation behind his back.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you?”

“Please…..please sir….” The consulting detective's voice was barely louder as he panted out the words, only causing the good doctor to grin all the more as he stopped directly in front of Lestrade; whose own cock was beginning to ache as he listened to the pair together.

“I don’t know Greg, whaddya think?”

Unbelievably aroused, Greg grabbed John and dragged him to him, closing his mouth on the shorter man’s and kissing him deeply. Because if he kept staring at Sherlock, debauched as he was from no stimulation at all, he just might come in his pants. John chuckled against his lips as he clicked the remote one more time, turning the device off; causing Sherlock to let out a great sigh and sagged down farther in his chair. Nipping at Greg's bottom lip, John broke the kiss and dragged the DI across the room so they were both standing in front of the younger man who was still panting in relief of having the toy turned off.

Greg saw Sherlock slowly sliding his hand down off the arm of the chair towards his leaking cock only to have it slapped away quickly by John. In a flash the good doctor was up and had his hands were buried in the man’s dark curls and yanking his head back and taking those sinful lips in a bruising kiss that draws a deep moan from the younger man. The sight was absolutely beautiful and Greg palmed himself through his jeans at the sight. He has never seen Sherlock so pliant and submissive and the whole thing was going straight to his groin; making him fight the urge to pull himself out and wank right there. When John pulled abruptly out of the kiss, Greg heard Sherlock let out a whimper and whine of disappointment; earning himself another nice yank on his hair from the good doctor.

“Enough of that Sherlock! No being greedy. I believe our guest needs some more attending to.”

Sherlock raised his head slowly until his eyes locked with Greg’s, those gorgeous mysterious eyes; pupils blown wide in arousal staring straight into his soul. While the feeling of John’s fingers on the button and zip of his jeans drew his attention away and back to the sandy blonde man looking him up and down hungrily. “Time to get off the timid train.” Greg thought to himself and crushed his lips against the good doctor’s; setting his hands to the task of getting those tight jeans and pants right off of him.

John pulled away and whispered, “Now you’ve got it.” As Greg’s hands got the zip and button undone he is met with the fact that John is wearing no pants under his tight as skin jeans. Cheeky bugger. Running his hands through the shorter man’s hair he latched his mouth onto the gorgeous tanned flesh to lay open mouth kisses along his jawline and collarbone. The small whimpering sounds of Sherlock echoing through the sitting room as the younger man watched the pair devour each other. Without warning John dropped to his knees and swiftly pulled down Greg’s jeans and pants, causing his erection to spring free; bouncing slightly in front of the good doctor’s face.

“Mmmmmm,” John’s hands are everywhere at once, caressing the front of his thighs and making their way to grab at his arse while nuzzling his face close to Greg’s cock and placing wet open mouth kisses along the shaft.

“No stroking yourself Sherlock!” John’s voice is firm, his attention never leaving the task in front of him. How he knew that Sherlock was trying to stroke himself Greg would never know. “You will get your turn when I say you will have your turn. Not a moment before. Hands on the chair.”

Suddenly Greg’s breath was punched out of him as John took him in mouth and swallowed him down all the way to hilt, burying his nose in the dark curls that were nestled at the base. John moaned obscenely around the length in his mouth, sending deep shockwaves through the DI’s body; setting his nerves on fire with arousal. This was gonna kill him. He was sure of it. The velvety heat surrounded him as John bobbed up and down his length, mixed with the sound of Sherlock’s whimpering in need had him right on the edge; causing him to dig his nails in his palms to try keep himself from coming too soon.

The sound of Sherlock’s fist slamming into with the arm of his chair snapped Greg out of his haze and pulled him from the edge quickly. John released Greg’s erection with a pop and turned on his knees to the dark haired man who was clenching his eyes shut in obvious frustration. Sliding his hands up and down the consulting detective’s thighs the good doctor eased the tense man into relaxation. Feeling bold Greg decided he had had enough of looking and needed to touch that gorgeous body that had been neglected for too long in his opinion. Greg made his way behind the chair and let his palms rest flat on the shoulders of the younger man and slid them slowly down his chest; causing Sherlock’s eyes to flutter closed at the feeling.

Making quick eye contact with John, who was still gently running his fingertips up and down the soft skin of Sherlock’s thighs, Greg asked silently for permission to take things into his own hands and got his answer in the way of a bright smile. Carefully Greg ran his hands down to rest so his thumbs and fingers were circled around Sherlock’s erection before softly taking it in his left hand and began to stroke it; the slide of his foreskin beneath his hand, slick with the copious amount of precome that had been steadily leaking from the constant stimulations of the toy still seated in the consulting detective’s arse. The tickle of dark curls caressed his neck, followed by the warm mouth of Sherlock leaving a trail of wet kiss marks and urging Greg to turn his head.

Greg’s head swam at the sensations thrumming to his body as he turned his head and was met with a heated kiss from Sherlock that sent electricity through his spine. Why had he thought this was a bad idea in the first place? Breathing deeply through his nose he relished the taste and feeling that was Sherlock, the hint of a cigarette that he had undoubtedly snuck when John was not aware during the day. The faint taste of John’s tea and something uniquely Sherlock.

John’s voice sounded through the sitting room; breaking the focus of the kiss. “Bedroom now you two. I cannot sit here and watch that fucking gorgeous display any longer. Time to lose the clothes and get in bed!” John was hauling Sherlock up and out of the chair before getting behind Greg and herding them all down the hall and into Sherlock’s bedroom. When the door clicked behind them Sherlock was kneeling on the bed with his hands resting palm down on his thighs patiently waiting. Silently John began to rid Greg of his clothes quickly; tossing the shirt across the room and kneeling to slip off his shoes, followed by his jeans and pants leaving him bare in the middle of the room. When John stood back up he looked over Greg’s bare form leaving the DI feeling quite exposed and insecure. He knew his body was older than both the men in front of him, and it was not as toned and fit as it once was. But all of that faded away when he heard a sharp intake of breath from the bed where Sherlock was seated.

Looking up from the floor he locked eyes with Sherlock and watched as the younger man licked his lips hungrily. “You are absolutely gorgeous, far better than I had even imagined.” Sherlock’s voice was hushed, almost reverent as he spoke to the air between them; the deep baritone of his voice drawing the silver haired man closer to the bed.  The sound of clothes rustling behind him alerted Greg that John was finally disrobing to join the party.

Greg crawled up on the bed towards Sherlock. Cradling the younger man’s head as he eased him to lay back; hovering over him on his hands and knees to steal a gentle kiss from those perfect cupid’s bow lips. Slowly and gently kissing him, and pouring all the pent up emotions and lust into the kiss that he could. Strong hands ran their way up Greg’s back as he snogged Sherlock, followed by soft kisses running in a line down his spine towards his arse. Panic filled Greg’s mind for a moment, and only a moment, before he relaxed. He trusted John and knew that he had everything in hand and went back to running his hand through Sherlock’s wild curls.

A sudden warm and wetness was at his hole all of a sudden as John licked a stripe across his opening, swirling the stiff muscle around his pucker. Greg let his head drop down to rest on Sherlock’s shoulder as he moaned in pleasure as the good doctor lapped at his entrance. It was delciousy filthy. No one had ever paid any attention to him that way. “His tongue is magic isnt it?” Sherlock’s raspy voice was in his ear, causing his cock to twitch painfully with the desire to bury itself in someone, when a spit slicked finger slipped passed the rings of muscle and were thrust in and out of him slowly. It was nearly overwhelming as John’s tongue and finger continued to work in and out of him; the blonde man adding another finger before crooking them just right and sending sparks through the DI’s vision.

“Oh yes, and the doctor’s procision at finding your prostate is quite amazing as well.”  Sherlock latched onto Greg’s ear, sucking at the lobe as John kept right on working on Greg’s other end; rubbing the pad of his finger all around his prostate gland and scissoring his fingers. Sherlock buried his hands in Greg’ silver hair and brought him back in for a kiss, effectively distracting him long enough for John to slip a third finger in and grasp hold of the DI’s leaking member to ease the tension and burn. “Trust me, you want that third finger. Our John is not what one would call small.” Sherlock muttered between kisses, leaving Greg little time to gasp at the sensation of feeling oh so full, and knowing that he would be all the fuller in just a moment.

As quick as John’s fingers were buried inside of him they were gone and replaced with the feeling of John’s full tongue diving into the DI’s hole while he moaned against it; keeping up a steady thrusting, fucking the other man with the pink muscle for a moment before diving over to the side table drawer. Coming back behind Greg, he was armed with two condoms and a bottle of lube. “Budge up beside Sherlock love.” Giving Greg’s arse a light tap he urged the DI to lay beside consulting detective. As he settled on his back he was able to fully take in the beauty that was John Watson. Greg would never had pegged John as being one with tattoos but here he was, the most beautiful piece of art covering, no not covering, surrounding the scar that had brought him home from the war. The brilliant swirl of red and gold cascading their way across the man’s shoulder and chest, and the two pistols that were cleverly pointed down at his impressive cock. That cock, that beautiful heavy pierced cock. Greg had to close his eyes to keep from launching himself off the bed at the doctor.

“Safety first gentlemen.” John chuckled out before rolling the first condom onto his gorgeous erection before popping the second into his mouth and lowering himself over Greg’s groin. Carefully he used his mouth to roll the condom over the DI’s cock swallowing him down til his nose was nestled in the curls at its base and pulling back off; moving himself to kiss Greg square on the lips again. “This is what we are gonna do dear, You are going to get yourself situated and buried in this tart’s sweet arse, and once you are all set I will slide myself right into you. Is that alright?”

Greg felt his mouth water with desire as he nodded, “God, YES!”

John just chuckled, “Well I will let you get to it then.” and with that John settled himself at the end of the bed and began stroking his sheathed erection while watching as Greg set to task.

“Up you get you.” Greg said as he smiled slyly at the younger man beneath him. “Hands and knees.” As Sherlock rolled over onto his hands and knees he exposed himself revealing the gorgeous wings that were tattooed across his back leading down to the lovely plug that was nestled between his cheeks.

“No prep work needed for him.” John’s voice sounded behind him as Greg grasped hold of the flared base of the plug and gave it a soft tug; pulling the most gorgeous groan from the man in front of him. Smiling wickedly the DI started to slowly pump the plug in and out of the younger man, enjoying the way he was pressing himself back on it; fucking himself on the toy and groaning in a mix of frustration and pleasure.

“Just fuck me already!” Sherlock growled before a loud snap rang through the bedroom and Sherlock stilled all his movements. “Please fuck me sir, I want to feel your hard cock filling me up.”

Greg looked over his shoulder to see what John had to say about it, and was met with a firm nod from the man. Slowly he slid the black toy out of the younger man in front of him and revelled in the sight of each of the bulbs that popped loose from his arse as it went; growing smaller in size the more it came out til it was all the way free. Taking a deep breath Greg slicked and lined himself up and slowly began to sink his way into the tight heat of Sherlock’s arse; biting back an obscene moan as the pleasure of it all almost had him tipping over the edge. Once he was fully seated in Sherlock he took a deep breath through his nose to try and calm himself.

“Ready?” John’s breath ghosted along the back of his neck causing a shiver to go down his spine. Nodding he felt the feeling of John’s piercing rubbing up against his entrance before the head of his cock popped through the first and second rings of muscle; sending a stretching burn through him. Sherlock hadn’t been lying. John went slowly, making sure he stopped when Greg needed to adjust to the intruding girth within him until he was fully deep in the DI. Greg let his forehead drop down on Sherlock’s spine as he tried to catch his breath. The feeling of being so very full and the tight heat of Sherlock wrapped around his cock had his head swimming and left every touch of skin on skin feeling like electricity.

Then both Sherlock and John started to move in tandem, Sherlock rocking forward while John rocked back; both of them fucking him slowly and steadily. Greg closed his eyes and just enjoyed all the fabulous sensations running through him as all he had to do was stay still while these two gorgeous men took his body for their own. “Thats it love, just relax and enjoy the ride.” John’s voice was low and raspy with desire as he pulled nearly all the way out before sliding right back in; angling his hips just right so he was hitting Greg’s prostate with every thrust. All while Sherlock was moaning wantonly beneath him, angling his own hips for his own pleasure; occasionally tensing his muscles to draw an extra noise of pleasure from the DI above him.

Greg was sure he had died and gone to heaven because his entire body was singing in pleasure, the heat coiling in his gut; the major warning that he was close to coming. Grasping the sheets hard, he tried to bring one of his hands up to stroke Sherlock’s cock, and found that the younger man was already set to the task; letting out strangled sounds of pleasure. “...please...sir…” Greg didn't realize what Sherlock was asking until John’s voice behind him spoke. “Tell him Greg. You get to decide when he comes.” Arousal shooting through him, Greg gripped Sherlock’s curls in one hand and spoke directly into the consulting detective’s ear.

“Come for me.” And Sherlock came with a roar, arching his back and clenching himself around Greg’s cock as John shouted out Greg’s name and thrusting deep inside the DI and pegging his prostate head on as he came as well; finally pushing Greg over the edge. Greg’s vision whited out as his ears rang before his eyes went dark and he dropped out of consciousness; the pleasure and sensations proving too much to handle. When he woke he was cleaned up and laying between the consulting detective and his doctor, cuddled up beneath the heavy duvet.

“You deserved better than what she gave you.” Sherlock’s voice was quiet where he was nestled on Greg’s shoulder; idly drawing invisible symbols on his chest with his long violinist fingers.

“Hm?” Greg was confused.

“Monica. You deserved so much better than what she gave you. You didn't deserve to be treated that way. I just thought you should know. Both John and I feel that. That you deserved so much better.”

John propped himself up on his elbow and watched the two if them regarding each other. “What Sherlock means is, you deserved better and still deserve better. And we would love it if you were to consider us for the job of taking care of you.”

“What?”

“Really Greg, its not that difficult. Will you or will you not let John and I take care of you. As in a relationship between the three of us?” Sherlock’s snarky “I am smarter than you” tone was back; and it earned him a swat from John.

“Well, whaddya say?”

“Um...well I have never done this before, but….sure.” Greg felt calm and at peace for the first time in many years, nestled between these two madmen who had helped him get through the hardest nine months of his life. If this was what was offered to him. Then he would be a fool to refuse it.


End file.
